“They’re trying to be secretive about that,” the broker told him, “but my best guess is the president of the company unloaded his personal holdings.”
“Who’s the president?”
“Man by the name of Bolus — Emery B. Bolus.”
“Western Prospecting Company have offices here?”
“Uh huh… Think they keep them simply to sell stock. Pretty good suite of offices under a lease which hasn’t expired yet. No business activity. One stenographer, a vice-president, a superintendent of operations, a president, and a bookkeeper… You know the type… If you get rough, don’t let anyone know where you got the information.”
“Thanks,” Mason said. “I’m going to get rough — and I won’t let anyone know where I got the info.”
He said to Della Street, “Get me Loftus or Cale on the line… Brokerage firm of Loftus & Cale. I want either one.”
She nodded and put through the call. While Mason was waiting for the connection, he pushed his hands down deep in his pockets and paced the floor of the office thoughtfully.
“On the line,” Della Street called. “Mr. Loftus, senior partner.”
Mason took the line, said, “Hello, Mr. Loftus. This is Perry Mason, the lawyer. I find that I’m interested through one of my clients in a transaction which was concluded through your office on Tuesday morning.”